


Justice for Bianca

by RomiKitten



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomiKitten/pseuds/RomiKitten
Summary: Bianca FINALLY has to face the consequences of her actions!
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	Justice for Bianca

**Author's Note:**

> I have played through Inquisition probably thirty times (no exaggeration), and it has always royally pissed me off that Bianca is at least partially responsible for everything horrible in Thedas during Inquisition, but you don't get the option to drag her in for judgement. You don't even get to say anything to her when she threatens to make the Inquisitor "eat your own eyeballs."
> 
> I mean, aside from just being a generally unpleasant, smug, douchebag character, SHE IS THE REASON THERE IS RED LYRIUM EVERYWHERE AND FACES NO CONSEQUENCES. It seems competely out of character, no matter what Inquisitor you're playing. You go after a freaking Elven god but not this chick? You get the option to kill someone for throwing a goat at your castle but not dumbass Bianca Davri? Really, Bioware?!
> 
> Ahem. Anyway. My most recent playthrough was a Dalish Mage who took no shit, and I feel like she would absolutely not have tolerated Bianca's bullshit. She was smart and ruthless and relied pretty heavily on the Nightengale, and she absolutely would have worked out snatching Bianca up to deal with her away from the eyes of her BFF, Varric. So this is my headcanon for that encounter.
> 
> This is my first ever fanfic, so please be gentle.

Bianca Davri awoke on the floor of a cold cell. 

A normal person, when they wake up, takes a few minutes to adjust to reality. They need to remember who, and in some cases what, they are. They need to assess where they are, what time it is, and potentially, why they have a lampshade on their heads. Bianca Davri, however, would be the first to tell you that she was decidedly not a normal person, and woke up firing on all six cylinders. 

She immediately knew that 1) she was not in the same place she had gone to sleep, 2) her bedroll and things were missing, and 3) someone else was nearby. If she strained, she could just make out the sound of someone breathing. All three points led her to a single conclusion: Someone had taken her.

She held still, operating under the assumption that, while her captor might not want her dead immediately, it was still on the table as an option. She opened her eyes a fraction, attempting to take in her surroundings without making it obvious that she was awake. She kept her breathing deep, slow, and regular.

Stone walls, and well-constructed. No obvious windows, and the only light appeared to be coming from a fire of some kind. She shifted a little, slowly. Heavy wooden door, with a small, barred window. Also well-constructed. The gently flickering light was coming from outside the door. No light source in the cell. No bed. No visible furniture. No visible torture devices, either, so that was a good sign for now. This was simply a stone box to keep people in.

She took stock of herself. The last thing she remembered was making camp for the night in the deep roads on her way back home. She had just laid down on her bedroll to do some reading before sleep, and then… nothing. Her clothes and belongings were gone, save for a pair of leggings and a thin tunic. They had taken her tools and weapons. All she had was her wits.

Who had her? Corypheus? Merchant’s Guild? The Wardens? No one she could think of would have been this… it seemed strange to think of her kidnapping and imprisonment as kind, but she was unharmed thus far. 

“Good, you’re awake,” said a voice from the corner of the room she hadn’t been able to see. Bianca paused, thinking. She knew this voice. The last thing she had said to this woman was a threat. Apparently, the Inquisitor hadn’t been amused.

“There’s no use pretending, you know. You might not be aware of this, but you snore something terrible. I just waited for the noise to stop. It seems you string your dear husband along as well as Varric, or you’d have known to fake it.”

Bianca sat up, slowly. She felt groggy and a little disoriented, but otherwise unharmed. Must have drugged me somehow, she thought.

Inquisitor Lavellan sat in the corner of the cell, facing Bianca. She had leaned her back into the wall, bent her knees casually, and had her elbows resting atop them. The Inquisitor looked… exhausted. Even in the dim light, Bianca could make out the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was slightly mussed and unkempt, and she held herself a little stiffly, as if something was causing her pain and moving too much would aggravate it. 

She looked as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, and would like nothing more than to lay down and sleep for a month. Leaning against the wall next to her was a massive greatsword with some kind of... Dragon? Serpent? worked into the hilt. Bianca relaxed a fraction.

“Is that what this is about? Varric?” she asked.

“Creators, even drugged and imprisoned, you still sound like a smug asshole,” said the Inquisitor, shaking her head, “Are you really that arrogant, or is it just your voice?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Is it?” Bianca repeated, ignoring the insult. 

“In fact, no,” said the Inquisitor. “While I think the way you treat my friend is disgusting,” she continued, making a face,”and I find it endlessly ironic that you had the nerve to threaten me, when your stupidity and arrogance have resulted in at least three assasination attempts on the man you supposedly love, this actually has very little to do with Varric. You and he are both consenting adults, and your relationship is really none of my business.”

“Good,” said Bianca. She started to ask, again, why she was here, but Lavellan cut her off.

“I want to make something clear to you, however,” said the Inquisitor with an odd little half-smile, “I know you’re very used to manipulating the men in your life to get whatever you want. You think you’re untouchable because you’ve been outsmarting the Merchant’s Guild for so long. In short, you’re used to being a very big fish in a small, if dangerous, pond.” Lavellan dropped her arms to her side and sat up straight, “But I am the fucking Inquisitor. I have an army. I have a spy network an order of magnitude larger than your guild. I have killed dragons with my bare hands. I could behead you in front of a crowd for what you’ve done and people would thank me. You. Do not. Threaten. Me,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “Understood?” she asked.

Oh wow, she REALLY wasn’t amused, Bianca thought. She found the hairs on the back of her neck rising. She swallowed, “I understand.”

“Good,” said Lavellan, and slumped back against the wall and went silent.

“Is that why I’m here?” Bianca asked, after a few moments. The Inquisitor chuckled softly.

“It really is just your voice, isn’t it?” said the Inquisitor, half to herself. “No, Bianca, that is not why you’re here.”

“Then what is it you want from me, Inquisitor?”

“I want my clan back, you arrogant bitch,” Lavellan snarled.

“What?!” said Bianca, befuddled.

“I’m going to tell you a story, Bianca, and if you value your life you are going to sit there, and shut your mouth for once, and listen.”

Bianca glanced briefly at the broadsword leaning against the wall, grimacing. She nodded to the Inquisitor and sat in silence, waiting.

“Good. It’s fairly obvious to anyone with eyes that I’m Dalish,” she glanced at Bianca, “Just nod, I can’t stand your fucking voice anymore.”

Bianca nodded. The Inquisitor went back to staring at the wall, and then spoke.

“Lavellan is not a surname. We don’t have those. Lavellan was the name of my clan. The humans use them interchangeably, and it amounts to the same thing. We are…” she paused and swallowed, “We were a family, and we were all of Clan Lavellan.

“Our clan was different than most in that we got along fairly well with the humans we dealt with. We cared enough about what was going on with them that we decided to send one of our number to the Conclave to investigate. I drew the short straw, obviously.”

Bianca nodded again. Everyone knew this. A Dalish leading the masses of the Chantry’s faithful was noteworthy enough that even the Dwarves had heard the story, even if most either didn’t believe it or didn’t care. Dwarves care for little outside of their own politics. The Inquisitor was correct on that score, at least.

“After I left them, the clan moved off near Wycome, hoping to trade with the nearby humans in both goods and news. Maybe they thought their association with the Inquisitor would keep them safe from the ire of the humans, I don’t know. We’ve always gotten on well with them, and my reputation shouldn’t have hurt.

“It must have, though. They started to get harassed by bandits. I set my Spymaster to investigating, and she discovered that these were no mere bandits. They were mercenaries in the employ of someone wealthy enough to afford them and canny enough to buy their silence.

Bianca stared at the Inquisitor. What did any of this have to do with her? The Inquisitor paused for a moment before drawing in a ragged breath and continuing.

“Next, I sent the Ambassador’s people to go and work with the Duke of Wycome in finding these ‘bandits.’ While he was, on the surface, sympathetic to the Inquisition, there was always the possibility that it could be him.

We discovered that there had been a recent sickness in the area, which for some reason was only affecting the humans. The elves, both in the alienage and my clan, were unaffected. You know how humans are,” she glanced back at Bianca, who nodded again,”they of course concluded that, since the sickness wasn’t touching the elves, then the elves must be responsible.” Bianca’s heart sank. Humans always blamed the elves. Even with her admittedly limited exposure to them, she had heard enough to guess where this was going. 

“The mercenaries were, indeed, hired by the Duke in order to rid themselves of the elves, and thus cure the disease, so they thought. First, they went in and massacred the alienage. Men and women and children, killed for the shape of their ears because some high and mighty human said so and no one thought to question it. 

“Enough survivors and escapees fled to my clan that they left their camp to go and help them fight off their attackers. The Keeper wrote to me to plead for help. My Keeper. Begging me.” the Inquisitor’s voice broke, and she took a steadying breath. 

“I had our Commander send troops to the Wycome alienage, to help fight them off. They moved as quickly as they could, but…” She trailed off, staring into space for a moment. 

“They were too late,” she finally said. “The mercenaries, along with the townspeople, had largely wiped the elves out before my soldiers arrived. We eventually got everything back under control, but those few of my people who did survive the battle later died either of injuries or infection,” Bianca could dimly make out tears on the Inquisitor’s cheeks, rolling slowly down amongst the delicate lines of her vallaslin. 

“Clan Lavellan is gone. There were no survivors. My family is dead.”

Bianca remained silent and still. The inquisitor was deadly still, and her voice was low, but her sorrow was written plainly on her face. They sat in silence for a few moments, tears streaming silently down Lavellan’s face as she stared mutely into space, Bianca trying not to look and wishing she was anywhere but here, witnessing this woman’s heartbreak. Eventually she took a few deep, ragged breaths, slapped at the tears on her face, cleared her throat, and looked directly at Bianca.

“I know you’re wondering what any of this has to do with you.”

Bianca nodded again, slowly.

“You see, we found the real source of the sickness.” 

Bianca felt cold dread wash over her. Oh no. Oh, no, no, no, please no.

“It seems the Duke had recently installed new safety measures into the wells in Wycome. Marvelous new red crystals that were said to purify the drinking water and make it safer. Of course, he hadn’t gotten around to installing them in the well of the alienage yet, with elves being second class citizens.”

Bianca’s face was a picture of horror. The inquisitor was staring daggers at her.

“Do you understand what I’m saying to you? Because you couldn’t listen when the man you love told you how incredibly dangerous red lyrium was; because you thought it was an interesting little puzzle to solve, and damn the consequences; because you are so fucking arrogant that you’re convinced that the rules just don’t apply to you; my family is dead.”

The Inquisitor went silent again for a moment, staring intently at the dwarf in front of her. There was rage and pain written plainly across her face. For the first time since she had awoken, she felt that she was not leaving this cell alive.

“I got the news the morning before you showed up to my fortress to ‘put it right,’” she said, after a few moments. I put aside my grief to help my friend, only to discover that it was you. Then you had the audacity to threaten me if I hurt someone you care about,” she laughed. There was no humor in it.

“You knew what just a tiny amount of red lyrium did to Bartrum. You knew what it did to Knight Commander Meredith; that it was at least partly responsible for the Mage Rebellion and subsequent decimation of Kirkwall, and you still thought that you were clever enough to master it. This shit nearly wiped an entire city out, and nearly caused your beloved Varric’s death on more than one occasion, and you fucking knew it, and that still wasn’t enough to deter you. Not genius Bianca. Oh no,” she sneered.

“As a direct result of your arrogance, Corypheus gained enough power to murder the Divine and blow up the Conclave. The overwhelming majority of the Templars have sided with him, after being fed red lyrium instead of the regular stuff. The ones we encounter are twisted into unrecognizable monsters, incapable of normal speech or thought, from what we can tell.

“The Ferelden Grey Wardens have been nearly wiped out. What little remains of them is still vulnerable to corruption. It was all I could do to take them in and keep them from being banished from the country entirely. If there is another Blight, Ferelden may not survive it. Because of you.

“Not to mention the giant hole ripped in the sky, and being, as Varric put it, ‘ass-deep in demons.’” The Inquisitor paused, and took a few slow, steadying breaths before continuing.

“Then, seeing what you had wrought, you made your way to Varric, used him to get my attention, and then lied to my face about the source of red lyrium.”

“I didn’t ---”

“YOU WILL BE SILENT!” the Inquisitor shouted. She paused again, collecting herself.

“You lied. You manipulated Varric, and by extension me, into cleaning up the mess you caused. And, when you were finally found out, when you finally had to admit some responsibility, you said ‘it’s as right as I can make it.’ To me. To Varric. Not even a half-assed apology. 

Bianca opened her mouth to speak, but the Inquisitor held her hand up for silence.

“Don’t bother. You and I both know you still don’t feel you did anything wrong. Personally, I think you’re incapable of remorse. Or empathy. Nobody who treats someone they apparently love the way you do is capable of feeling anything for a stranger. Be silent,” she said as Bianca’s face twisted in rage at the accusation.

“Despite the pain you have caused me, and countless others, I am not unreasonable. I detest needless death. While I personally would be happy to watch you die in agony, the way my clan died in agony, it would serve no purpose. I don’t see the merit in destroying a tool that still has some use left,” she took another deep breath and let it out slowly.

“So I am offering you a choice,” she continued. “If you truly want to help make things ‘as right as you can,’ I will allow you the opportunity to do so. You are a skilled smith, and if you are half as good as you claim to be, the Inquisition could use your services. If you choose, I will allow you to confer, under strict supervision and within the confines of this cell, with my Arcanist. She is as brilliant as you think you are, and together you may dream up some invention that gives us an edge against Corypheus and the Red Templars.”

Bianca tilted her head to the side, considering.

“Another option is to attempt to repay the Grey Wardens directly. I will surrender you to their custody, you will undergo the Joining, and if you survive, you will join their ranks and aid us in fighting darkspawn. You will feel what the power you gave to Corypheus is doing to them, first hand, and possibly gain some empathy, and do some good,” she paused, letting it sink in for a moment.

“Your final option is a clean death,” here, she nodded towards the greatsword leaning against the wall. “I will behead you. Here. Now. In this very cell. No one will ever know what became of you, I promise you.”

They stared at each other for a few minutes in silence.

“Understand that in all three of these options, you will never contact Varric again. Your life belongs to the Inquisition now. To me. Unlike you, I actually protect the people I care about. No goodbye letter, no visits, nothing. He will move on and focus on cleaning up the mess you caused. This is non-negotiable. If you care about him at all you will let him go. 

“Even though you don’t deserve it, I will swear to you that I will do everything in my power to see that he comes to no harm while he is with the Inquisition. This isn’t for you, you understand. He is a very dear friend of mine and I care for him a great deal. I would not harm him to hurt you. 

“Your relationship up to this point was none of my business. I’ve said as much already. The wellbeing of a friend and key member of the Inquisition is my business, however. You are poison. I will protect him from you,” the Inquisitor went quiet again. 

Where, before, she had looked full to bursting with righteous rage, now she just looked incredibly tired, and ready to end the conversation. She took yet another deep breath in, let it out slowly, and then used the greatsword to lever herself off the floor with some difficulty. Once she was standing, she leaned against it, favoring one leg.

That sword is almost as big as her, how can she possibly wield it? 

“It’s not as heavy as it looks,” said the Inquisitor, reading into the expression on the dwarf’s face, “And it is extremely sharp. I’ve only used it once, but it is well maintained. Do not tempt me.”

Bianca’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“I will give you an hour to think it over and decide. Food and drink will be brought to you, in the meantime,” said the Inquisitor. She walked to the door, tapped on it, and paused, turning.

“This cell is Dwarf-made, by the finest smith I know. You are in the middle of nowhere, far from any friends, and under heavy guard. Anything you might use for a tool has been carefully removed from your person. Do not try to escape. The guards are very loyal and very well-trained.”

The door opened behind her, and she straightened her posture quickly. 

“I’ll see you soon,” she said, pointing at her with the greatsword and winking, of all things. She strode through the door confidently, slinging the greatsword up to rest on one shoulder. All signs of pain or fatigue had vanished. The door closed behind her with a clang, and Bianca heard several locks re-engage, followed by the Inquisitor exchanging pleasantries with someone, presumably the guards. 

After a few moments there was laughter, and the sound of footsteps retreating down a hallway.

Then silence.

Well. Shit.

Bianca adjusted herself in an attempt to get more comfortable on the cold stone floor, with little luck. Eventually she gave it up and settled for leaning against one of the walls, deep in thought.

She had a decision to make.


End file.
